


Returning What Belongs

by Rehfan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Frottage, Hand Jobs, Light Angst, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 15:25:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2656949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehfan/pseuds/Rehfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek picked up Stiles' bat from the power station. He wanted to return it to its rightful owner.</p><p>He didn't mean to catch Stiles just coming out of the shower, but it worked out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Returning What Belongs

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Tumblr Post](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/84488) by the-spark-and-the-king. 



"So did you forget something?" Derek asked, letting the bat hit the floor with a thump.

“You really need to start using the front door, Derek,” said Stiles. He had just showered and walked back into his bedroom toweling off his hair to find tall, dark, and grumpy standing there with his aluminum bat. He had left it back at the power plant after that confrontation with Barrow and trying to rescue poor Kira.

Derek had never seen Stiles shirtless before. The sight wasn’t unpleasant. He had known him now for a few years and had become quite impressed with the human. His shoulders were broader than Derek had estimated, taut muscle underneath the skin. But the thing that drew his vision was the treasure trail of hair beneath his navel, cut off by the heavy cotton towel being clutched at Stiles’ waist by a rather deceptively strong hand. He was rangey - limbs covered in lean muscle, veins prominent. “What?” he asked.

Derek snapped out of his reverie and cleared his throat. He could feel his cheeks redden in embarrassment. “Um… yeah. Just wanted to return your bat. What with all that’s been happening, I guess you’ll need it again soon.”

“Probably,” said Stiles with a shrug. He waited.

“What?” asked Derek.

“Are you going to stand there and watch me dress or…” asked Stiles.

Derek’s eyebrows raised with the realization that he had overstayed his welcome. But Stiles was just _there_ … and his skin smelled so good. And Derek really wanted to know what flavor he was. They had seen so much death and destruction over the past few years together and they were sure to see more soon. Derek just wanted to fall into something that was comfortable. He wanted to feel something other than anger, betrayal, helplessness. He wanted to curl up warm and naked against someone he could trust. And if he were any other kind of man, any other kind of werewolf, he would have openly admitted all of this to Stiles in the split seconds after he asked whether or not he was going to stand there and watch him get dressed. But he wasn’t. Instead his brain took in all of these mixed emotions and translated them into two words: “Can I?”

Stiles’ mouth fell open. “What?”

Instead of answering him, Derek took a seat on his bed, a small grin playing hide-and-seek along his face.

“You’re serious right now?” asked Stiles.

Derek shrugged, enjoying his shock. “You change in the locker room all the time,” he reasoned. “Around more than just one person.”

“Yeah, but all of us are changing, not sitting there checking each other out,” said Stiles.

“Alright,” said Derek. He got up, figuring he'd pushed this envelope as far as it would go. “I’ll see you later. With your clothes on.” His shoulder brushed Stiles’ as he moved toward the door.

“Hey,” said Stiles, grabbing his arm. “You actually meant that just now, didn’t you?”

Derek blushed again, unable to meet his eyes.

Something shifted behind Stiles’ eyes and he moved to stand in front of Derek, wrapping his free hand around the back of the man’s neck. “Hey,” said Stiles, trying to get his attention. He pressed their foreheads together. “We’ve both been pretty stressed out. Me with these crazy dreams - so bad I’m afraid to fall asleep and when I do… Anyway…” Stiles pinched his eyes closed for a moment and Derek raised his eyes enough to watch him internally struggling. He brushed his thumb along Stiles’ cheek soothingly. At his touch, Stiles’ eyes fluttered open and there was a breathless moment between them. The moment stretched into an eternity before they both fell toward each other by degrees until finally their lips were moving against one another’s.

It was comforting, this kiss. They wanted it more than they could have thought possible and Stiles vaguely noticed the towel slipping off his ass and both his hands reached for Derek’s face. His nakedness was warmed by the werewolf wrapping strong arms around his waist and back, the front of him pressed hot against Derek. Stiles moved his hands into Derek’s hair as the kiss continued, twisting first this way and that, heat spreading slowly to his cock as the flesh moved against the denim of Derek’s jeans.

Stiles felt so good in his arms. The safe haven he needed personified in the wiry frame against him, the taste of warm mint on his mouth, the feel of powerful hands in his hair, clutching at his scalp. He could feel his hips cant slightly against him and one of his hands dipped low to cup Stiles’ ass and his reward was a low moan against his mouth. He could feel the pressure in his cock as it filled, wanting him, needing to be inside of him. He felt the wolf in his mind’s eye howl and salivate at the idea of mounting and mating him. He wanted that and burned hot at the thought.

“Need you, Stiles,” he managed. And it was the truth. He had felt such betrayal after Jennifer… Stiles he could trust. Stiles he could lose himself inside. There would be no disastrous outcomes with him because he had proved himself to Derek time and time and time again. I mean, who goes on a rescue mission with nothing more than an aluminum bat anyway? Stiles was human. Participating in this life, in the pack, was probably the stupidest thing he could have ever done. It only guaranteed that his life would be that much shorter. And yet, he did it. Every time he was the one to count on. He was the one you could depend on, lean on. And that’s exactly what Derek needed even though he wouldn’t have ever admitted it before. But things were different between them now. And judging from the depth and passion behind this kiss, it would never be the same again.

They tangled themselves up on the bed, Derek stripping his shirt from his body for only a moment before crushing himself against Stiles again, sucking his neck, and nibbling his collarbone. “Shit, Derek!” cried Stiles and the sound of his breathlessness went straight to Derek’s dick which was begging for release already. With a frenzied hand he opened his belt and Stiles’ nimble fingers helped him along. “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” asked Stiles, tawny eyes seeking answers.

“Yeah,” said Derek, pausing a moment to watch the play of gold and brown in his eyes. “Please, Stiles. I think we could both use this.”

“Okay,” he said. “Okay.” He took Derek’s cock in his warm hand and Derek’s eyes closed, mouth gaped. Stiles kissed his lips gently, first the top and then the bottom, sucking gently as he stroked slowly up and down his dick, feeling the play of the skin over his hardness.

“Here,” said Derek, balancing on one hand and reaching down to grab both of their dicks with the other, “let me. Want to watch you fall apart, Stilinski.”

And fall apart he did. Stiles’ back arched into Derek’s touch, the feel of their cocks slipping around one another’s was making his head swim and his toes curl. “I- I- I got lube,” he managed as one hand flailed outward for the bedside table drawer. He opened it awkwardly and rummaged around waiting for his hands to feel the small bottle as the feeling in his cock became sweet and aching. Concentrating on breathing was getting difficult as his hands finally found what he was looking for. “Ha!” he shouted in triumph and grinned stupidly at Derek.

The werewolf couldn’t help but chuckle; Stiles’ enthusiasm was downright boyish. “Put some in my hand,” said Derek.

Stiles did as he was bid and oh dear god that felt so much better and slick and wet and holy mother of god he was going to nut right then and there _please please please…_ “Please Derek… Please, may I?”

Derek gasped at Stiles begging him to come. It was so fucking hot, he thought he might lose himself in it. “Come on, Stiles,” he said. “Beg me again.”

Seriousness touched the brown of Stiles’ eyes. His voice was huskier than usual when he said: “Please let me come, Derek. Want to. For you. My wolf… my Alpha. Please.”

“Not an Alpha, Stiles,” said Derek, a frown appearing on his face.

“Here you are,” said Stiles, his breath coming in pants. His face and neck were flushed, his lips swollen and red from kisses ringed by beard burn. He looked absolutely debauched already and it was only going to become more beautiful as he came. “Here you’re my Alpha. Wanted this for so long. Need you to tell me it’s okay to come. Please, Derek. Please let me have this.” His mouth found Derek’s collarbone for only a moment before his head lolled back against the pillow, his body writhed beneath his touch. “Want to… want to please my Alpha. Come on, Der. Please…”

Derek dragged his teeth along Stiles’ throat, fangs just barely coming out to play leaving red lines along his skin that were unmistakable. “That’s it, Derek,” he sighed. “Mark me. Scent mark me with your come, big guy. Want this. Want you.” Derek’s hand moved faster over the ends of their cocks as the pleasure rose inside of him. That’s exactly what he would do: mark Stiles as his own, get a little of his lost power back. He needed that kind of control again. He found Stiles’ collarbone, licked just below it and bit slightly at the skin. Stiles cried out beautifully, his hands shooting to the back of Derek’s head where before they were clawing ineffectually at his back with Stiles’ stunted fingernails. He sucked at the blooming bruise and came hard between them when Stiles whispered: “My Alpha…”

Warm and sticky and impossibly filthy, Stiles was still hanging on, his eyes begging for release. He was still waiting on permission to come. Derek was amazed at his self-control. He breathed in his mouth, brushing a kiss over his lips, still stroking away. His eyes met Stiles’ and he whispered: “Come.” Stiles’ head pushed backward, eyes rolling backward as he let out a low groan along with his seed. His hips stuttered as he fucked Derek’s fist on the come-down, Derek’s hand milking the last of his come from him slowly. “Jesus fucking Christ, Stiles… that was… just-”

“Yeah,” said Stiles, looking down at the mess between them. “It was, wasn’t it?” Derek rolled off of him and they both lay there dazed for a moment, catching their breath. “Thanks for delivering my bat. I should lose more things more often.” He cocked a grin at Derek who chuckled, a broad grin spreading across his features. Stiles was sex-drunk enough to smile back like an idiot and laugh himself. It was a good laugh. One they had both needed for quite some time. And one that they knew that they could share again because Beacon Hills wasn’t done with them yet. Not by a long shot.


End file.
